Thursday, July 26, 2007

Eighteen players, but no catcher

Saturday was the big day; 'Wedding Day" for my big sister and her fiance Mike.

We awakened Saturday at the usual time, our Circadian rythyms unaffected by either the six-hour drive to Henderson or The Boy's lack of a nap the day before. I started with a bathroom break and a quick "midget shower" (I'm 6'4", and I'll be damned if the showerhead didn't aim for my navel), followed by leading The Boy down the elevator and through the casino at Fiesta Henderson to the "Baja Beach Cafe," an otherwise unremarkable restaurant located just across the casino, bearing a $2.99 weekend breakfast and The Boy's waiting grandparents.

They fawned, he played with two new Hot Wheels Sis had provided the evening before, and I shoved bites of cantaloupe and honeydew melon into his Food Intake Port between imaginary engine noises. No bath for The Boy that morning; just after breakfast, he and Mrs. T would be heading for the hotel pool for a little morning dip. After his swim and bath, I took The Boy into the hotel's conference-room center to visit a roving craft show while Mrs. T. took her chances with the hotel's "midget shower." And at the craft show, what did The Boy find but an entire display of homemade candles -- he had to smell every last one -- and a display full of Hot Wheels and other die-cast vehicles. $9.00 and one toy Space Shuttle Discovery later, he remained a happy Boy.

Noon arrived, we got into our "business casual" clothes for the wedding ceremony, and we headed for a nearby McDonald's for a sure-thing Boy feeding. Naturally I'd brought along only one "good" shirt, and equally naturally, The Boy flicked his full-of-milk straw in my direction, splaying a series of white milk dots diagonally across my shirt. He earned his Time Out, and I resolved to avoid being in any wedding photos.

After dropping off The Boy at the home of old friend Vegas Gopher and family (no children allowed at the ceremony, alas), we made our way to the Stratosphere Hotel and met the rest of the wedding party. Fifteen guests, counting Mike's relatives, my parents, Mrs. T and myself, all seated in the "C Bar" near the hotel's entrance, sipping drinks and waiting for the bride to arrive.

Show Time arrived at half past three. I led Mrs. T and three other guests to our waiting minivan, while Bride, Groom and all parents climbed into the limo that would take them up the street to the Little Chapel of the Flowers, just north of the Stratosphere. We got there a little early, and given the day's 105-degree high, did a little bit of ironic "heel cooling" while waiting for the ceremony to begin.

Before we knew it, everything was done. Sis and Mike said their vows, stopping only once to belly-laugh as the officiant paused to blow his nose. We took pictures, they climbed back into the limo, and we headed back to the Stratosphere for an incredible Italian dinner at Fellini's.

Near dinner's end, I noticed Sis was still holding her bouquet. And I got to thinking, even if they left out a bouquet toss as a nod to being nontraditional, she's 43 and the last of her gang to get married. Only one wedding guest was single, he's obviously ineligible for a bouquet toss, and I think Mike wanted to keep the garter anyway.

So, in the end Sis waited a very long time for The One. So long, in fact, there was no one left to catch the bouquet.

No comments: